


Cottage in the Woods

by Darkerchild



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Kneeling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Service Kink, Spanking, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 22:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20713586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkerchild/pseuds/Darkerchild
Summary: I have no problem with hierarchies. I am a wolf, after all. But I am not good at being noble. Taikia, at least, knows my place.





	Cottage in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MistressKat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/gifts).

It is morning. The sun cuts its way gently through the gauzy curtains. The light always has a gentle quality here; dust motes floating by in a romantic, unhurried way. The light, the weather, even the room with its rustic walls and sharp cedar smell are all illusions of one kind or another, but they are so solid that I forget their unreality more often than I remember it. I stay on the bed, tangled half-in and half-out-of the sheets, naked, watching Taikia get dressed.

She looks like a lithe woman of indeterminable age with short, thick black hair. On her head, under her arms, between her legs. She has burnished skin and golden eyes. I do not know if this is her real body or another glamor. It is hard to tell with her kind. I do not care. It is the body she presents to me. It is beautiful.

She puts on clothing meant for the real world: jeans, a shirt displaying the logo of a band I do not know. No bra, but her chest is flat enough that she can get away with that, and the fabric of the shirt is thick enough that her nipples do not protrude.

I am hard from my dreams of running like a wolf and fucking her like a man. She smiles at me, and I feel myself glowing inside. Her smile is love, acceptance, and control. She touches the damp tip of my prick lightly, scooping up a glistening droplet with one finger. I whimper at the touch. My morning hardness is number than a normal erection, but any touch from my Mistress is to be savored.

She runs her finger along my lips. I eagerly lick up the salty dampness of my own pre-come. I can see from her eyes that this pleases her. She runs both hands over the collar fastened around my neck, not so much to check that it is secure as to remind me that it is there. That I am an owned thing.

There is a question too, in her caress, are you still happy here? Do you still want this?

My blissful sigh tells her yes.

“Be a good boy,” she says softly, scratching me behind my ear. Then she vanishes.

-

There are many worlds, seen and unseen. There are the selves we present and the selves we hide. A priest may own a dildo. A CEO may pay a woman to flog away his insecurities. That woman may serve you at a grocery store checkout the next day, and neither of you will know, and neither of you will ask, because that is the unspoken contract.

The magical world is not so different from the mundane world in this way. The priest could just as easily be a vampire, the CEO a wolf, the checkout lady a witch. We do not often advertise what we are to those who do not already know.

But am I no longer a part of that world. I am an exile from the magical and have forsaken the mundane, so the rules do not apply as they once did. In retrospect, they feel foolish and awkward; like we were all ashamed of our identities and our desires. And for what reason should I find either of those things shameful?

I am Loupné. A wolf-born. Noble in lineage. By my pack’s tradition I did not need to concern myself with the mundane world except when chasing the unwary for sport. We owned a large parcel of land where we could run free in whichever state of transformation suited us best. Those of lower lineage, and those who were what our pack called loupfait – wolf-made, the lowest of the low – they worked outside the property to pay our taxes, buy our meat, and any toys we desired. Though they always returned home during the moon time.

We had such wonderful hunts, chasing each other through the hills. Rolling and frolicking.

It was an easy, lazy life.

-

My balls ache.

For days now, I have been teased to wetness by dreams, or by Taikia’s loving hands, but she has not let me come. It is a constant, delicious discomfort as I go about my daily chores. I am nude, other than my collar. It is black leather with a silver clasp. It is not held to me by any key or spell but my own submission.

I make the bed, sweep the cottage, weed the garden, and do the laundry. A modern washer and drier are hidden in a closet. They, like the kitchen appliances, work despite the cottage having no visible electrical hook-up. The conveniences in the washroom also work, despite a lack of plumbing.

The cottage is not real, and neither are the woods which surround it, the fresh mountain streams, or the too-tame deer which stand still when I try to chase them, taking away all of my fun. I would never harm them, since they are a part of this place, and therefore a part of Taikia, my Mistress, my Leader in this strange pack of two. But I do sometimes long for the chase.

It is another ache, and one which I think she is aware of, and if she is aware of it, it must please her. So I accept it with joy.

If I walk far enough from the cottage in any direction things start to get fuzzy. It starts with a tingle, like wind blowing across my muzzle fur. Then there are the smells: car exhaust, deodorant, cigarette smoke, Chinese take-out. They are blurred, like looking at a picture through foggy glass. If I go far enough the grass gives way to gravel, then to hard rock which looks suspiciously like asphalt. There are shadows of buildings, and people, and traffic. I never go further.

I could. I could take clothing from the bin in the laundry closet and leave for a day, or a week. I know the way back, and Taikia would not mind. I think she worries that I haven’t taken a break yet. I will, eventually, but not yet. And I will ask permission first, even though I do not have to.

There are animals which live in the boundary zone where forest shifts to city. I smell rabbit today. That's nice. It runs before I can get close. It always does. I could chase it; the rabbit is like me, a foreigner to the realm. It is fair game. Still, I never chase it. I make excuses, but the truth is I enjoy the ache more than the hunt, and even though Taikia would not mind, I like to pretend she has more sway over me than she does.

My days at the cottage have an easy, lazy rhythm to them. I work, I wander, I take periodic snacks from the fridge. Mostly ham sandwiches. I am not creative when cooking for myself. Some days I chop wood, because I enjoy the exercise even though I do not need it to maintain my body. My wolf blood means that I will always have a strong, hard body, until I am old and I do not. Usually I do not chop wood until Taikia has returned, and only then if she asks.

She likes to watch, when she is in the mood.

-

There was a hierarchy within my pack. As a noble, I could do almost anything I pleased. There were rules within this, of course, there are always rules: the pack comes first, outsiders must not learn of the pack, only nobles may create loupfait, the hierarchy must be maintained.

My disgrace wasn’t that I choose a loupfait to take into my den. While unusual, such things were allowed, especially if they were pretty. I didn’t love her. I don’t think she loved me. But we both understood each other. She needed control. I needed to be controlled. It could have gone on a long time. Her pinning me down with her wiry arms, and forcing my legs open with her powerful thighs every night. Holding me there and getting off from watching me squirm.

It never could have lasted forever.

I was caught submitting to her, which was against the rules, and so I was asked to leave.

Asked, being a euphemism.

She suffered no consequence other than a slight raise in status. The rules are funny like that. Some acts are only taboo for one participant, or one gender, or one rank.

I have no problem with hierarchies. I am a wolf, after all. But I am not good at being noble. Taikia, at least, knows my place.

-

I shower before she returns.

It is the only time I remove my collar, placing it careful on the bathroom counter. I feel truly naked without it. I could put on clothing and still feel bare.

After I have finished, I carefully dry my body and put my collar back on. I smell like the mint soap Taikia left for me. I make my way to the cottage door and kneel on a small rug Taikia has placed on the hardwood floor for this purpose.

I wait.

In the mornings, Taikia fades away like a sprite, dissolving effortlessly from the world of the cottage in the wood to mundane world she works in during the day. In the evening, she makes the trek from the edges of the illusion to the door. I do not know if she does this because she is tired or if it is because she enjoys seeing me waiting when she steps over the threshold. I think it is both, but the latter more than the former.

I smell her long before she comes to the door. Minty, like the soap, and she ate Lebanese food for lunch. I hear her shoes in the grass. I hear her inspecting the garden. If I were in my wolf form, my tail would wag with joy. She is home. She is home. She is home.

The door opens, and I collapse forward, worshipping her feet, her calves, her thighs.

She rubs her hand absently in my hair, and her touch, her acceptance, is everything.

“Did you have a good day?” she asks.

“I had wonderful day. I had a good walk in the woods. I smelled a rabbit. And I’ve planned a nice dinner for us, if you would like?”

“You know I love your cooking, you beautiful mutt,” she says, scratching me behind the ear. I crane upwards towards her hand, but she withdraws it, her eyes shining with laughter and love. “Well, get to it then.”

She slaps my ass as I crawl away towards the kitchen.

I am carnivorous. She is not. I chop and roast root vegetables for her. Spiced and honey glazed. For the side I make her a salad with green beans, toasted almonds, and feta cheese. For me, a steak. The cottage fills with the smell of cooking. She kicks off her shoes and watches me, eating me with her eyes. Whatever I cook, I know that this watching is the main course.

-

I learned to cook while in exile.

There are few jobs willing to hire those with no background, no proof of education, no last name. Kitchens aren’t too picky about their dish pigs, and I moved up from there. I got good.

I took pride in my work. I enjoy serving. It feels like my purpose. But living as a lone wolf in the city has difficulties of its own. Even the lowest loupfait in a pack is afforded a safe place to run during the moon time, but when the change came upon me I would slink through dirty alleys, hoping and praying not to be caught.

It was the day after one of these scared runs that Taikia found me. I was walking to work. I knew that I looked tired and hung-over. My throat was raw from repressed howls. I was late and knew that my boss would yell at me when I arrived.

I felt a hand on the small of my back. I yipped, startled.

“Hey, no need to be afraid.”

I looked into her sparkling, golden eyes, and I knew instantly what she was. I was wary – my pack had told stories – but also curious. She was beautiful, but not in the bewitching way I had been warned about. She was beautiful because she was confident and held her back straight, and because she was, well, beautiful.

“I saw you running last night,” she said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I could take it away, if you like.” She snapped her fingers, as if in demonstration. “You could be a real boy, if that’s what you want, Condulf, is it?”

“I’ve been going by Connor.”

“A human name. I go by Taikia. If you prefer; if you like the transformation but simply fear discovery, I could do you a glamor.”

“How much?”

“No fee. It would be a favor, for another who doesn’t quite _fit_. But if you would do me a favor…”

I growled. She was beautiful, and I wanted her to want me, but I couldn’t tell if it was a trap or not. I enjoy submission, but I do not like being deceived. I was also terribly, painfully lonely.

“Would you go on a date with me?” she asked, her voice suddenly shy.

“Why?” I asked.

She smiled, and I felt that glow for the first time. “Because you’re hot. And I think we have shared interests.”

I know that she knew from that first meeting what I wanted out of a relationship. Witches know things like that, like how she knew my name, and where I worked, and that I was a wolf without having to ask.

She waited several dates before inviting me to her cottage, just for a night. She rode me hard and it was glorious. The weight of her holding me down. It was several turns of the moon before she presented me with my collar. It was over a year before I asked if I could live at her cottage full time, serving her.

My glorious Mistress.

She accepted.

-

After dinner, I load the dishwasher. Taikia reads at the table and drinks herbal tea. It smells lemony. I go outside and sniff around. The rabbit I smelled earlier in the day is eating grass. I can smell the rabbit and the grass. It is amusing to me because the rabbit is far away and doesn’t know that I know it’s there. The rabbit is real. All of the animals in the boundary area are. I don't know how they found their way into the world of the cottage in the wood, but I find their presence, when I catch their scent, endlessly entertaining.

I am not certain this translates to anyone who is not wolf, even Taikia doesn’t really understand it, but she finds my enthusiasm endlessly entertaining.

Eventually, I go back inside. Taikia is still reading, so I sit down on the couch and continue playing smell-the-rabbit until she is finished. It’s hard to concentrate on the rabbit when she’s so close. Her smell is stronger. I can see her looking up at me occasionally over the top of her book. She is making me wait on purpose. I squirm. She smiles and turns another page.

“Mistress…” I say, trying not to sound wheedling.

“Mmm?” she asks.

“Can I do anything for you?”

“Like what?”

My breath catches in my throat. I’m hard just thinking about it. “I could massage your beautiful feet. Or I could eat you out. Or I could suffer prettily for you. Whatever you want, Mistress.”

“You can be my stool for a bit.”

I sink to the floor in gratitude and crawl under the table. Taikia puts her feet on my back. I feel the solid weight of them. My dick throbs. Maybe she will give me release tonight, maybe not. Maybe she will let me transform into my wolf-self after, maybe not.

It is not the getting that is my reward. It is fact that she controls the getting.

“I love you,” I say, as my legs and arms shake from the strain of holding an awkward position too long.

Her hand reaches under the table to scratch my scalp and play with my hair. My hard cock presses upwards against my belly.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” she says, still toying with my hair. “So happy you asked to stay.”

I whine with pleasure, and need.

"Would you like to come tonight?," she asks, pressing her heels into my ribs.

"Only if Mistress pleases."

"Mistress does please - but not without an offering."

"What do you wish?" I ask, trying to think of things I could do for her, but my cock is so hard. The warmth of it is flooding my brain, making it impossible to think or reason.

Her feet lift off my back. She pushes out her chair and stands.

"Out from under there. Hands on table. Present."

Hurriedly, I take my position, bearing my ass to her. She cups my left cheek with her hand. Then squeezes. I almost come from it, but I do not. I hold back for my Mistress. She squeezes my ass, kneading it until it is tender. Then she pulls back. 

"You will come at the count of five," she says. I suck in air, bracing myself. Her palm smacks across my ass and I moan.

"One."

Wetness spills out of me. I'm coming. I can't help it. Her hand impacts again.

"Two."

"Mistress, Mistress, I can't -"

"Three."

My hips twitch and spasm. I'm in ecstasy. My cock is pumping hot jizz against the underside of the table. I'll have to clean it up later, on my hands and knees, and that will be another act of service and -

"Four."

"I couldn't hold myself, I'm sorry Mistress, you're just so..." The last of my load spurts out on her final impact.

"Five."

I collapse boneless against the table, and Taikia collapses against me. I feel her warmth on my back. My mind flutters.

"Was that good for you?" she asks.

"Yes," I managed to stammer out. "You?"

"Perfect," she say, and kisses me on the cheek. Time passes. Taikia gets me a glass of water. My mind clears as I drink it. We talk about her day at work; her one co-worker who has been getting on her nerves. I clean up my mess.

"Are you still anxious about going back?" she asks.

I am. The mundane world scares me. I can survive there, but I am always afraid, of what I'm not certain: of discovery? I am not ashamed of being a wolf, or of being Taikia's plaything. But away from the cottage in the woods things are so much more wild and unpredictable. I enjoy serving, I enjoy the control of others, and not having to think about what I have to do next. I like a world with boundaries. I like pretending that Taikia sets those boundaries, instead of facing the truth that the only walls keeping me in are my own fears.

That isn't fair to either of us.

"It would be easier for me if you set rules," I say. "When I can go, where, how long I can stay."

"I can't set rules for your entire life," she says. She isn't angry. She's telling the truth. "Sometimes you'll have to act without me."

"I know. I'm just afraid of losing you."

She claps her hands and the cottage fades away around me. Its individual pieces fragmenting, swirling, and reforming until suddenly I am standing in a slick, modern studio apartment. A wall-sized window looks out over a small inner-city green space. Beyond, high rises and office towers swell towards a night sky made starless by light pollution. Taikia stands before me, looking as she always does. I sniff and I can smell the remnants of our dinner scenting the air. I can hear the dishwasher churning in the kitchen. I keep my eyes fixed on Taikia.

"You won't lose me," she says. "I'm always here." The air shimmers, the cottage returns, and Taikia is still standing in front of me.

"Once a week, to start," Taikia says. "You will chase a rabbit."

"I love you," I tell her.

"I know."


End file.
